A Court of Chaos and Confusion - An ACOTAR Rewrite

Chapter 21

The next afternoon I lay on my back in the grass, savoring the warmth of the sunshine filtering through the canopy of leaves, noting how I might incorporate it into my next painting. Lucien, claiming that he had miserable emissary business to attend to, had left Tamlin and me to our own company for the afternoon, and the High Lord had taken me to yet another beautiful spot in his enchanted forest.

But there were no enchantments here – no pools of starlight, no rainbow waterfalls, just a grassy glen watched over by a weeping willow, with a clear brook running through it. We lounged in comfortable silence, and I glanced at Tamlin, who dozed nearby.

He opened an eye and smiled lazily at me. "That willow's singing always puts me to sleep."

"The what of what?" I said, propping myself on my elbows to stare at the tree above us.

Tamlin pointed toward the willow. The branches sighed as they moved in the breeze. "It sings."

"I suppose it sings war-camp limericks, too?"

He smiled and half sat up, twisting to look at me. "You're human," he said, and I rolled my eyes. "Your senses are still sealed off from everything."

I made a face. "Just another of my many shortcomings." But the word – shortcomings – had somehow stopped finding its mark.

He plucked a strand of grass from my hair. I worked to keep my face very still as his fingers grazed my cheek and I tried not to flinch away. "I could make you able to see it," he said. His fingers lingered at the end of my braid, twirling the curl of hair around, unaware of my unease. "See my world – hear it, smell it. Taste it." His eyes flicked to the fading bruise on my neck as he sat up.

"How?" I asked as he crouched before me. Fucking Lucien couldn't ditch emissary business for one day to spend the afternoon with us? Tamlin always got so... personal, when it was just the two of us, always putting so much focus on me.

"Every gift comes with a price." I frowned, and he grinned. "A kiss."

"Absolutely not!" I clenched my hands in the grass to keep from pushing him over in his crouched position. "Don't you think it puts me at a disadvantage to not be able to see all this?"

"I'm one of the High Fae – we don't give anything without gaining something from it."

I rolled my eyes, but to my own surprise, I said, "Fine."

He blinked, probably expecting me to have fought a little harder. I hid my smile and sat up so that I faced him, our knees almost touching as we knelt in the grass. My heart was fluttering so fast, and I licked my lips nervously.

"Close your eyes," he said, and I obeyed, my fingers grappling onto the grass. I braced myself, the grass crunched as Tamlin rose up on his knees, focusing on the sound of the birds chattering and the willow branches sighing as his mouth brushed one of my eyelids, then the other.

He pulled away and I was left breathless - the singing of birds became an orchestra, a symphony of gossip and mirth. I'd never heard so many layers of music, never heard the variations and themes that wove between their arpeggios. Beyond the birdsong, there was an ethereal melody – a woman, melancholy and weary... the willow. Gasping, I opened my eyes.

The world had become richer, clearer. The brook was a near-invisible rainbow of water that flowed over stones as invitingly smooth as silk. The trees were clothed in a faint shimmer that radiated from their centers and danced along the edges of their leaves. There was no tangy metallic stench – no, the smell of magic had become like jasmine, lilac, roses.

Magic – everything was magic, and it broke my heart.

I looked to Tamlin, and my heart cracked at the sight. It was Tamlin, but not. His skin gleamed with a golden sheen, and around his head glowed a circlet of sunshine, and his eyes – they were every hue and variation that could be imagined. This was a High Lord of Prythian – handsome, captivating, powerful beyond belief.

My breath caught in my throat. He began smiling, and I blinked, dropping my hands, not really knowing why or when I had raised them between us. Instantly, the golden, glowing Tamlin vanished, and the one I knew returned. I could still hear the singing of the willow and the birds, but...

"Why can't I see you anymore?"

"Because I willed my glamour back into place."

"Glamour for what?"

"To look normal. Or as normal as I can look with this damned thing," he added, gesturing to the mask. "Being a High Lord, even one with... limited powers, comes with physical markers, too. It's why I couldn't hide what I was becoming from my brothers – from anyone. It's easier to blend in."

"But the mask truly can't come off – I mean, are you sure there's no one who knows how to fix what the magic did that night? Even someone in another court?" I don't know why the masks bothered me so greatly, I didn't need to see their entire faces to know them.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you."

"I just... want to help you all." I tried to think up an excuse for my forwardness, but a yawn crept from me as a sudden weight pressed on my eyes.

"What about your part of the bargain?" He was grinning so broadly that I could almost see all of his teeth – those fangs nowhere in sight.

"What?"

He leaned closer, his smile turning wicked. "What about my kiss?"

I grabbed his fingers. "Here," I said and slammed my mouth against the back of his hand. "There's your kiss."

Tamlin roared with laughter, but the world blurred, lulling me to sleep. The willow beckoned me to lie down, and I obliged. From far off, I heard Tamlin curse. "Feyre?"

Sleep. I wanted to sleep. And there was no better place to sleep than right here, listening to the willow, the birds, and the brook. I curled on my side, using my arm for a pillow.

"I should bring you home," he murmured, but he didn't move to drag me to my feet. Instead, I felt a slight thud in the earth, and the spring rain and new grass scent of him cloyed in my nose as he lay beside me, stroking my hair.

I was too tired to move away, to do anything but sink down into a lovely, fantastical dream as darkness swallowed everything.